


I'll be God when it comes to you

by Anonymous



Series: The Count's Magician [6]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Closet Sex, Dry Humping, Frottage, Intercrural Sex, Jealousy, Love Confessions, M/M, Marathon Sex, Possessive Behavior, Sorry Asra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 20:19:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17904947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: He strides over behind the counter next to you, leaning on it with one arm casually, though he sounds anything but when he asks, in lieu of a greeting, “Who was that?”“Who was who?” you wonder.“The guy who just walked out. White hair. Big dumb hat.” Ah. Another one of his possessive fits, then.





	I'll be God when it comes to you

**Author's Note:**

> Lucio is truly the [rowdy, spicy, angry boy](http://thearcanagame.tumblr.com/post/165134201314/would-you-say-that-lucio-was-more-of-a-rowdy-boy) he is in this one.

“Do you have everything?” you ask Asra with a smile as he comes down the stairs. Faust is curled around his shoulders looking content and a little sleepy.

“I think so…” He shrugs as he makes it to the bottom step, “If not, I’m sure Muriel will have something to make up for it.”

You laugh a little and go back to organizing the herb shelves, “Tell him I said hi, will you? As much as I want to go with you, I have things to do tomorrow.” Namely go to the palace to see Lucio, but Asra is always uncomfortable when you mention him, so you’ve taken to being vague about it. You’re not sure if it works, but at least he doesn’t visibly look upset anymore.

“I will. I’ll be back the day after tomorrow, all right?” He adjusts his hat and scarf before giving you a wave and you return it as he walks out the door into the afternoon sun.

With a sigh, you go back to work. It’ll be lonely without Asra here. Sure you’ll see Lucio tomorrow, and while that excites you, it doesn’t change the fact that you’ll be alone tonight, without even Faust to keep you company. Still, at least you have some work to do even after you close, and maybe you can entertain yourself with thoughts of—

Said thoughts are interrupted by loud and rapid knocking on your door. You’re a little confused; your light is on, why are they knocking? But you don’t have to open the door for them because it’s slammed open, making several bottles and racks behind you rattle (though luckily, nothing falls). And there, standing in the doorway, is a rather ruffled looking Lucio.

You’re surprised to see him. It’s only been a couple days since the last time you visited, and while Lucio can be impatient, he’s never paid a house call since first you met. And that time, he had a retinue of guards—now, he’s alone. What is he doing here? As much as you wish it so, you’re not sure he would’ve come just for you.

He strides over behind the counter next to you, leaning on it with one arm casually, though he sounds anything but when he asks, in lieu of a greeting, “Who was that?”

“Who was who?” you wonder. He could be talking about anyone. Regardless, you start putting away the shelves you’d been working with. You get the feeling that whatever Lucio has come for won’t wait for you to finish doing your job.

“The guy who just walked out. White hair. Big dumb hat.” Ah. Another one of his possessive fits, then. As cute as it is, he does seem troubled by it. You wonder if you should be lie to placate him, or be honest. With a sigh, you decide to be honest. You’re no good at lying to Lucio.

“That was Asra. He’s a fellow magician of mine. Also my roommate. He’s going out for a couple days to gather some ingredients and visit an old friend.” Once you’re finished replacing all the shelves, you turn towards him and smile, hoping to reassure him. “He’s just a friend, Lucio. You don’t have to worry about him.”

Lucio clicks his tongue and crosses his arms. “I wasn’t worried about anything.” He says that, but he’s still frowning. Then he relaxes and takes a step closer to you, entering your personal space. Just by reflex, your body warms and you feel the urge to touch him. You almost do before he continues talking. “Anyways, I came here for a reason.” Right. A reason. This isn’t a pleasure call.

“What is it? Is it a magic rea—ah!”

You’re interrupted when Lucio grabs you by the waist and whirls you around to the wall of shelves. As he pins you to it, he presses his mouth to yours, not hesitating for a moment to make it wet and dirty, and it’s so sudden that your knees get a little weak. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, gripping the fur of his cape tight as you kiss him back. He rubs his tongue against yours, then withdraws to bite at your lip, and one of his hands moves to your back, stroking it slow and soothing compared to his aggressive kissing.

When Lucio finally pulls away, a string of saliva stretches and breaks, landing on your chin. He smirks at you, amused, and he licks his lips slowly just to taunt you. Unfortunately, it works, and you shudder against him.

He leans in, and you think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just presses his forehead against yours and asks, voice low, “Where do you sleep here?”

Did… _Did_ he actually come here just for you? You bite your lip to hold back an embarrassing noise at that thought.

“Upstairs,” you answer. “I’ll show you.”

Lucio doesn’t move at first. He just sighs in satisfaction and leans closer against you, eyes shut. His hand on your back continues the gentle movements, and the other, his clawed one, moves up to brush through the hair at the nape of your neck. It’s nice and warm and completely unnecessary, but he’s doing it anyway, and it makes your heart thud hard in your chest. You don’t want to do anything, lest he stop, but alas, he soon pulls away.

“Well, let’s go then. You’ve seen my bedroom, I think it’s time I see yours.”

As you lead him up the stairs, snapping to put out the light signifying your shop as open, you clarify, “Technically speaking, the bed is in the same room as the rest of the living space, but…”

Lucio snorts, but then makes a small confused sound. “The _bed_ …?” he murmurs to himself.

You reach the top of the stairs and enter your abode, and Lucio is right behind you. You watch a little anxiously as he scans the area with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. When his gaze lands on the bed on the far side, he stiffens.

“There’s only one.”

“Um,” you rub the back of your neck. It’s not that weird, is it? There’s not really room for any others, unless you wanted to get rid of the table. “Yes?”

He spins around to face you, “Where does Asra sleep?”

Without thinking, you tell him. “He sleeps in the bed with me.” You realize your mistake when he growls and grabs you by the arm. You try to explain while he drags you over to it. “W-wait, Lucio, it’s not like _that_ —”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says. He rips the blanket off the bed, then yanks you in front of him so he can push you onto it. You’re barely able to turn onto your back before he starts stripping off your clothes. Your face flushes with heat, and you don’t fight him. Once you’re naked, he removes his own clothes, including the plates and claws of his golden arm that he sets gently on the table, and his silence is making you nervous.

When he’s finished, he pushes you up further onto the bed, and sits between your legs, moving your thighs to rest on his. Surprisingly, he’s smiling, but it’s less happy than it is spiteful. He leans forward over you, resting on one forearm while he cups your cheek with his other hand, and says, pleasantly, “It’s fine, lovely, no need to worry.” He nuzzles your forehead with his, “I’ll just cover this bed in our scent so he won’t question for a _second_ who you belong to.”

Goosebumps spread along your skin and you shiver with arousal at his words, but at the same time, you’re also worried. It’s one thing for him to leave hickies and bites all over you, but you _share_ this bed, and it’s not solely your place to decide what to do on it.

But Lucio doesn’t care. …You’ll just have to clean it thoroughly before Asra gets back.

Before anything, Lucio kisses you again. It starts off slow, almost enough to be relaxing. Lucio removes his hand from your face and drags it down your neck, your chest, around to your side, then your waist. You aren’t really paying it much attention until it slides over the crease of your thigh, and you become instantly aware of it. You try to focus on moving your lips with his, but it’s hard when his fingers make it to the base of your half-hard dick, bare centimeters from touching you. But then he pulls his hand away, moving it down. You whine into his mouth in disappointment, but you practically choke on it when he suddenly grips your balls tight—not to the point of agony, but certainly enough to hurt in just the right way.

“L-Lucio—” you stutter when he releases your mouth. Your hands claw at his shoulders as you gasp for breath. He stares down at you, amused, but doesn’t reply. Instead, he gives a quick squeeze and your back arches with a sharp gasp.

Then he moves to claim your mouth again, rolling his fingers rhythmically. It’s amazing and overwhelming and you feel hot all over, and you’re hardly participating in the kiss anymore, even as Lucio practically fucks your mouth with his tongue. You want to touch him back, give him the same pleasure he’s giving you, do anything for him, but you’re virtually paralyzed.

But finally he releases you, with both hand and mouth, and he leans up to eye you over. You likely look a mess, and you can’t help the way you tremble and twitch.

Lucio sighs contentedly, then grins, “Aren’t you a vision…” He caresses your cheek and wipes the saliva off your lips with his thumb. It doesn’t seem like he’ll act again soon. Now would be a good time to return the favor, should you so wish.

After a split second’s consideration, you decide to take your chance. Quickly grasping both his wrists, you yank him off balance, and he falls onto you with a yelp. Before he can react, you wrap your arms around his torso, and roll on top of him, straddling him and pinning his wrists to the mattress.

For several seconds, the two of you stare at each other with wide eyes in surprised silence. You hesitate before doing anything; you don’t want to do anything he doesn’t want. But then again… It’s not like he offers the same courtesy to you. Maybe you should just…try something. The longer you wait, the more time he has to recover. That decided, you lean down and kiss just below his jaw. You hear his breath hitch, but he otherwise doesn’t react, so you take it as permission to continue.

As you slowly kiss down his neck, it occurs to you… Those marks Lucio so loves to cover you with would look marvelous on his pale skin. The way he’s letting you do what you want is giving you a tentative sense of power, and that’s what motivates you to bite down halfway down his neck. You don’t know how hard would be too much for him, so you try a medium pressure, and when he groans in response, you can feel the vibration against your lips. You start lazily sucking that spot, interspersing it with small nips, and once you’re sure there’s going to be a bruise there, you pull away to examine it. And there, it’s red now, but you can tell it will soon turn purple. Mesmerized, you let go of one of his wrists to lightly touch the mark.

It’s that moment you can understand why Lucio riddles you with these every time you’re intimate. There’s a feeling of possession, of there being physical proof of your laid claim. You don’t presume to suggest Lucio belongs to you so much, but it doesn’t stop the feeling of it in your chest.

Surprisingly, Lucio hasn’t moved his hand even though you aren’t holding it down anymore. He’s staring up at you with an unreadable expression; lidded eyes, brows furrowed with one ticked up at the end, and slightly parted lips. You can’t tell if he liked that or not from his expression alone, but you know based on past experience that if Lucio really didn’t want you to do this, he wouldn’t have let you do it in the first place.

There’s no reason to stop now then.

You reach for his wrist again, but you shift your direction slightly, and place your hand over his, weaving your fingers together. You squeeze a little, and your heart skips a beat when he squeezes back. Still, you return to marking him, this time going for the muscle between his neck and shoulder. You chance biting him a little harder this time and his reedy gasp in return is satisfying.

For some time, you continue this way, leaving hickies along his body—another on his neck, one and then another on his collarbone, one on his chest. Every time you move to a new spot, you’re surprised he’s still letting you. His breaths are a little shallower now, and when you lick and bite down on one of his nipples, he moans and swells up against you.

When you pull away to look up at his face, you’re instant struck breathless. His face is completely flushed, and the ruddy color spread all the way to his chest. His lips are pressed tight together and eyebrows are drawn up, expression vulnerable in a way you don’t think you’ve you seen before. Your heart races with exhilaration; is this how he feels when he has you so pliant and open?

But then, out of nowhere, Lucio smirks up at you. For the smallest fraction of a second, you’re confused, until he rips his hands from yours and pushes himself into a sitting position, leaving you in his lap. Startled, you nearly fall back, but he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you close.

“You’re adorable, do you know that?” he purrs against your lips, running a hand up and down your back as he kisses you hard. When he backs off, he sighs, “My sweet little magician…”

Then he pushes you down back onto the bed, and straddles you, grinding down against you before you can think. The sudden friction, slightly damp with pre, is heavenly, and your back arches on a groan. “So slow and tender—you’re such a soft-hearted romantic, you know that?” The words sound like he’s trying to tease you, but there’s something genuine about his tone. You don’t know what to make of it, however. Your mind is too blurry, unable to think about much other than bucking up against him and chasing that feeling, and you unconsciously twist your fingers into the sheets.

Lucio smooths a hand up your abdomen, to your chest, past your collarbone to rest against the side of your neck, thumbing along your throat. The touch makes you reflexively draw in a lungful of air, and good thing too, because a half-second later, he moves his hand to wrap around your throat, squeezing almost until you can’t breathe. He doesn’t hold it for long, but it’s still a rush, and you moan his name the second he releases you.

The two of you simply grind against each other for some time, before Lucio stops his hips, instantly filling you with disappointment, and worsened when he slides to the edge of the bed. You call his name in question, but he just waves a hand lazily at you as he leans over to reach for something on the floor. It’s a shame you’ve been left cold, but having a chance to catch your breath is nice, and the view of Lucio’s backside as he searches is even nicer.

You’re considering actually reaching out to touch it when he finally finds what he was looking for. He turns back to you with a smug look, and in his hand is a sizable bottle of oil. Part of you is excited at the sight of it, but you’re also a little curious.

“Where did you get that?” It’s certainly not yours.

“Brought it,” he says simply, making you even more confused (where did he keep it that you couldn’t notice it? It’s about the height of your hand), but he doesn’t explain further. He instead moves back and sits between your thighs in a similar way he had before. Popping open the bottle, he instructs, “Raise your legs for me, sweetheart.” You do so, and he pours oil into his hand, and to your surprise, he starts covering the inside of your thighs with it, then your length. You shiver when he pulls his hand away and starts covering his own.

Wait, is he…?

He is. Lucio wipes his hand on the sheet and lays his cock against yours before grabbing your legs. Your calves go over one shoulder, pressing your thighs tight together around him. He lets out a pleased sigh, looking you in the eye as he starts slowly thrusting. It’s similar to the grinding, but it’s slick and smooth with the lubrication, and you gently start rocking your hips into his when he’s all the way through. In an effort to make it even better, you squeeze your thighs even tighter, and to your delight, he moans and picks up the pace.

The unfortunate thing about this position, as nice as it is, is that you can’t kiss him. All you can do is bite your lip to hold back your noises as the heat and pleasure mount, and tug a little on the sheet to resist trying to pull him down.

But as if he read your mind, Lucio growls and backs off enough so he can splay your legs again over his lap, then leans down to give you a messy kiss. He reaches between you to wrap a hand around both of your aching erections, and starts stroking fast and sloppily, aiming to get the two of you off as fast as possible. You moan into each other’s mouths, barely able to take full breaths between you, and you wrap yourself around him as much as you can, bucking your hips erratically into his hand.

To your surprise, he’s the first to reach the edge. He groans loudly against your lips, and you feel his spend splash over your abdomen and chest. He pauses his hand’s movements only to release himself, then goes back to it as he drops his head against your shoulder, panting to catch his breath. You weren’t far away either, so it only takes a few strokes before you come yourself with a weak cry of his name.

He stopped moving his hand, but it’s still loosely curled around you, so when he pulls it away a few minutes later, you shiver from the brief stimulation. He pushes himself onto his hands and knees with a sigh, and when you see his face, he’s smirking.

“You’d better get ready, ‘cause that was only the beginning.”

And he isn’t lying. For the next several hours, spending the time between re-hydrating and cleaning yourselves (or attempting to), you and Lucio ravish each other in every way the two of you can think of. He fucks you so hard you see stars, followed with simply using your mouths, and at some point Lucio even rides you, rough and dominating as he is with everything else.

(You dirty the bed so thoroughly that you’re considering simply buying a new one, lest you face any questions from Asra.)

Unfortunately, time marches ever forward, and there’s only so much your bodies can handle. As the sun dips below the horizon, you tiredly yank the sheet off the bed and put on a new one (though, as Lucio had so wished, the smell of sex soaks the mattress). You’re hopelessly tired, and as much stamina as Lucio has, there’s no way he isn’t either.

But when you glance at him across the room, he isn’t acting like he’s about to leave. He’s just standing near the stove, squinting at the salamander inside. They seem to be having a staring contest, and it looks like Lucio’s losing. When he finally blinks, he scoffs and turns to face you, glaring when he sees you trying to smother a laugh.

“I think your dumb lizard’s dead because I don’t think it’s blinked a single time all day,” he says stuffily, moving back towards the bed. “Anyways, I’m tired, let’s go to sleep.”

“You’re sleeping here?” you ask before thinking.

He looks at you with an incredibly unimpressed expression. “Uh, yeah? Did you think we were done? You’re coming to the palace tomorrow anyway, so we can just ride back there together.” He yawns, then falls into bed, stretching himself out comfortably with his hands beneath his head, and noticeably leaving a space beside him for you to slide into. For some reason, though, all you can do is stare at him. When he realizes you aren’t coming, he opens his eyes and scowls at you. “Are you getting in or not? Do you have a problem sleeping with me?”

“Uh—…” you startle a little, and bend down to pick up the blanket from the floor before climbing in beside him. After pulling the blanket over the two of you comfortably, you scoot as close to him as you dare. It seemed like he wanted you beside him, but you’re not sure exactly how close he wanted, so you leave a safe couple inches between you.

That seems to only displease him, though, and he grunts before wriggling an arm underneath you so he can tug you to rest against his shoulder and chest. You tense at first, but you eventually relax, and hesitantly slide your arm around his waist. He doesn’t protest, only turns his head a little so he can bury his nose in your hair, so you tighten your grip a little and nuzzle your face into him.

Lucio has never been much of a cuddler. As far as you can remember, the two of you have cuddled maybe once, and you’re not sure it counted because it was more you slumped over him for a few minutes longer than usual after a particularly rough session. But now here you are, curled up against him with his arm around you, about to sleep together. It feels…domestic. Like you’re actually _something_ together. Your heart starts pounding hard and fast thinking like that. But can you help it? You feel closer to Lucio now than you ever have since you met him.

“What are you thinking about?” he murmurs sleepily, “Your heart just started beating like crazy…” _Oh God, he can feel your heartbeat_. That only makes it worse, somehow. When he says your name and shakes you a little, repeating his question, you realize you haven’t answered him.

“I-I, uh…” you bite your lip, half-hoping he doesn’t hear you and fully hoping he doesn’t ask for clarification as you mutter against his skin, “I was just thinking about…us.”

He gives a short hum, and you think that that’s that and he fell asleep, but then he asks, too quiet to discern a tone, “What… _about_ us?”

“Just…” you clear your throat gently, “this is really nice and, um…I love you.” It’s not entirely a lie—it’s just not the whole truth.

A soft snort. “Yeah, I know you do. This is probably one of your fantasies, isn’t it…?” He laughs, a small puff through your hair, “Sleeping with me, and at your place no less…” It is, but you don’t have to admit to it. “Mh, you should tell me some more of them…”

More of… “My fantasies…?” He gives a tired but affirmative hum, and you start feeling a little queasy with nerves. It’s one thing to acknowledge you have them, but another entirely to actually say them out loud.

When you take too long to answer him, he mutters impatiently, “Tell me, or I’ll leave.”

You jerk and unconsciously squeeze your arm tighter around him. “I-I’ll tell you, just…” You take a deep breath and try to think about your more innocuous ones. “I like to think about…going on a gondola ride, or seeing a play together. Or going to the marketplace. There’s a baker there that makes the best bread in Vesuvia.”

“The best, hm?” He sounds even closer to sleep. “I’ll be the judge of that…”

Your eyes fly open, but you don’t move. Is he saying he’ll actually go with you? You’re just about to ask when you hear a soft snore. He must be asleep. You sigh, and try to calm your heart so you can sleep yourself.

 

* * *

 

You don’t remember what you were dreaming when you first wake up. Whatever it was was pleasant and warm, and not entirely unlike how you feel now, now that you’re awake. One difference, however, is that you’re hard. Two differences, actually—you’re hard, and there’s something warm and wet wrapped around you. In your surprise, you open your eyes and one of the first things you notice is that it’s still dark outside, the moonlight the only thing lighting the room. Then you notice that Lucio is no longer beside you, which must mean…

You push yourself onto one elbow to yank up the blanket, and as you expected, there he is, eyes shut as he sucks you off slow and sensually. With the blanket off, he looks up at you and laughs, giving a vibration that feels all too nice, before pulling off of you so he can talk.

“Finally, I’ve been at this forever. You must be a pretty heavy sleeper.” For a few moments, all you can do is stare at him in shock. The longer you’re quiet, the bigger the grin on his face gets, until he can’t help but snicker. “Wondering if this is still a dream?” he smirks, sharp and dangerous, “I’ll make it the best dream you’ve ever had, kitten.”

Then he moves back down to take you back into his mouth, and you groan and drop the blanket to cover your mouth. The blanket falls behind him, allowing you to see with perfect clarity the slight pink on his cheeks and his glistening lips around you. As he bobs his head, he starts rubbing the inside of one of your thighs, moving the fingers down and in slowly before reaching your hole, still loose and wet with leftover oil and semen. Before he slides them in, however, he looks up at you, waiting for you to make eye contact. When you do, he winks, and plunges three fingers into you. He laughs again when you whine, making you shudder.

Lucio works you over with the skill and precision one can only get from being intimate with you for as long as he has, and he knows every one of your weaknesses, every spot and stimulation he can give you that will make you go wild. Eventually, jerking with pleasure, you slip on your elbow, and fall onto your back, and your now freed hand instantly goes to tangle in Lucio’s hair.

All of a sudden, he starts increasing his pace, sucking hard on you while thrusting his fingers harder, and your back arches, while your hand barely muffles your desperate moan. You feel so close, so overwhelmed by everything; your lingering fatigue, Lucio’s fingers, his mouth—

When you finally release, crying his name into your hand, you feel him swallow it all down with ease, and he lets out a satisfied sigh as he sits up. Your hands fall from him and your mouth, and you watch him lick his lips as he crawls on top of you. You can taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you.

As he relaxes against you, you feel his hard cock brush against you, and you realize he hasn’t finished yet. Sleepily, you reach up to wrap your fingers around it, but he bats it away when you touch it.

At your questioning sound, Lucio huffs, “Don’t worry about it. Just go back to sleep. Still a dream, remember?”

Well, you are very tired…

 

* * *

 

The next day, after your morning rituals, Lucio fucks you again.

But…that’s not quite right.

Where Lucio is usually aggressive and overbearing when you have sex, this time it feels like he’s being considerate—and not just in that he’s being gentle with you. He watches you closely, languid in his movements as he brushes all your tenderest spots both within and without. When he kisses your neck and collarbone and shoulders, he doesn’t leave marks, it’s only for your pleasure. It makes your heart as warm as your body.

It doesn’t feel like _sex_ in its rawest form, it feels more like…making love.

It’s that thought that makes you shoot off, moaning his name loudly. It only takes a few more slightly quickened thrusts for him to follow with a high-pitched gasp and whimper into your neck. A few moments later, he slides out, and the two of you spend a few minutes catching your breath.

“Hey,” he mutters into your ear before kissing just beneath it. Then he pushes himself up to his hands and knees and asks, “Are you sore?”

You stretch a little, cataloguing all the little pains in your body. Most of them are in your back, but also your behind and thighs. Relaxing again, you nod, “A bit, yeah.”

“Where?” You tell him. “Turn over.” Without questioning him, you do so, and he perches himself on the back of your thighs, his legs framing yours. He rests his fingers on the back of your neck, and starts squeezing the muscles there. It hurts before it starts to feel good, and when he moves on the the muscle between your neck and shoulders, you realize he’s giving you a massage. You didn’t even know he knew how to _give_ a massage.

It soon becomes clear that Lucio actually _doesn’t_ know how to give a massage. Sometimes he presses too hard, or not hard enough, or his fingers dig into the wrong spots and hurts more than helps. He’s honestly pretty terrible. But he’s still trying. There can’t be any reason for him to do this for himself, so he must be doing it for you, and it puts a lump in your throat that makes it a little hard to breathe. You try to swallow it down.

Lucio works his way down your back to your hips, your backside, your thighs, and finally stops at your knees. He doesn’t take his hands off you, though, just sits still and silent. Concerned, you look at him over your shoulder, and are a little spooked to see him already looking at you. Except, he’s not really, he looks like he’s looking through you, so caught up in his thoughts that he’s not paying attention.

But then he grimaces and climbs off of you, moving beside you to lean against the headboard. You slowly push yourself up to sit in front of him. You’re about to ask if he’s okay, but he starts speaking before you.

“That…Asra. How long have you known him? How long’ve you been living with him?” It sounds like the words are being forcefully pulled out of him, like he’d rather not ask at all. But you figure you should answer him.

“I’ve known him for a long time…” You rack your brain trying to count the years since you met him that Masquerade. “Several years now… Only a little less than that since he moved in with me, I think.”

Lucio gets a bitter look at that, and looks out the nearby window. “What makes him so special? Is it because he can do magic?” Before you can answer, he leans forward, eyes narrowed at you, and continues talking, “What does it matter if he can? What does he even _do_ for you? Why does get to be with you every night when I—…” He trails off then, getting that far-off look again, with a touch of frustration.

You bite your lip, hesitating before asking, “Lucio? Are you okay?”

He refocuses on you, then lunges for you, pushing you down on the bed with your wrists pinned by your head. You don’t get the chance to say anything when he kisses you, fierce and passionate and painful when he bites down on your lip. It’s desperate in a way you’ve never felt from him, and you’re worried. But at the same time, trying to force it out of him won’t work, so you kiss him back, hoping for him to calm down and talk about what’s wrong.

When he does calm down, at least enough to stop ravaging your mouth, he’s giving you a morose expression, one that looks so completely alien on his face. “What do I… What do I have to do to keep you with me forever? I want you to only be _mine_ …”

You frown. “I am. I always will be.”

Unfortunately, that was the wrong thing to say. His face twists with anger and he squeezes down on your wrists. “No! This Asra gets to have you pretty much whenever he wants! I only get you for a few hours a couple days of the week! And whenever you’re not there, I…” his breath shudders a little, “I can’t stop thinking about you, about what you’re doing, who you’re with, if you still love me—I…” Then, oddly, he grins, but you can tell it’s with entirely fake confidence. When he talks, he sounds like the vain and selfish Count everyone speaks of, “Wouldn’t you rather be with me? Asra doesn’t deserve you— _I_ do, and you deserve _me_ —we’d be _unstoppable_ , just you and me—don’t you want that? Just the two of us against the world?” His hands move to cup your cheeks, pulling you close. “You just have to love me—stay with me _forever_ —…”

But then his face and bluster fall. He collapses against you, pressing his face against your neck. When he talks again, he sounds…sad. “Damn it… I… I _hate_ this. What have you done to me? How did I become so _weak_?” A second passes, and he pushes himself up, glaring at you with his teeth bared, “Is this some kind of enchantment? Were you so jealous and scared of losing me that you put some kind of spell on me that makes me never want to be apart from you? Did you _make_ me feel this way?”

Horrified, you quickly counter him, “No! I wouldn’t! And magic like that, if it even exists, would be impossible to maintain!”

Lucio continues staring you down as if waiting for you to admit you’re wrong and you _did_ enchant him, but then he gives up with a regretful grimace. He takes a deep breath, and gets out of bed, pacing the small room. He looks like some kind of caged animal, full of resentment and barely contained energy. He’s _upset_ , and he’s clearly upset about how he feels about you.

And how _does_ he feel about you? He’s told you he cares about you, but that’s not exactly clear. He didn’t seem this troubled by it then, so what’s making him so now? The way he talked, it sounded like maybe whatever he feels has gotten more intense… Could it be that maybe he…? You shake your head minutely. You shouldn’t get your hopes up. Regardless, whatever the reason, these feelings are clearly making him unhappy. And you’re the cause of them.…You know what you should do. The thought of it hurts, but no one said love was ever easy.

“If…” Lucio stops pacing and looks at you, gaze fierce, making you a little nervous, but still you continue, “If I’m making you feel something you don’t want to, we could…we could just stop seeing—”

“ _No_!” Lucio’s cry is so loud you’re stunned. He storms over to you and grabs you by the shoulders, “No, no, no, you don’t get to leave me like that—” he climbs back onto the bed and his fingers dig in tight, “—you can’t just decide you don’t love me anymore and just _leave_ , I won’t let you _take it back_ —”

Once again, he pushes you down, claiming your mouth with even more fervor and for longer. It feels less like it’s for pleasure and more like he just wants to keep you with him, like as long as he’s kissing you, you won’t leave, and it nearly breaks your heart. He eventually parts from you, but he doesn’t move far away. His hands wander your body, quick but feather-light, and he looks so unraveled that you wish you knew what to say to put him back together.

“…I… You’re…” He bites his lip harshly, then releases it with a short gasp, “I don’t want you to leave me. I want you to love me so much you can’t bear to be without me, I want to drive you _crazy_ with it, I want… I want…” He seems to lose the words for a moment, and grunts as he buries his face in your neck. When he finally speaks again, he’s quiet, but you can still mostly make out his words. “I want to be the only thing that matters to you, I want to be _everything_ to you, I want you to be as _ruined_ with love for me as…as I am for you…”

For a brief moment, it feels like your entire world stops—then shifts. Did you understand him correctly? He loves you…? You work your jaw, trying to say something, anything. “I-I… What did you say…?”

Lucio pushes himself up with one hand while he grabs your face with the other, sneering at you and he sounds indignant when he asks, “What, you just trying to get me to say it again?”

“N-no, I just wasn’t sure I heard you right—”

He interrupts you with a sharp, mocking laugh. “Fine, if you want it so bad, I’ll indulge you.” He leans down to kiss up your neck, soft and sweet, to your ear, in which he whispers, voice lusty and sensual, contrasting with the romantic words, “ _I love you, dearest_ ,” finishing with a bite to your earlobe. You shudder and tentatively reach up to grasp his shoulders.

“Do you…do you mean it?” you ask, too overwhelmed to be ashamed of how your voice cracks.

Lucio scoffs, “I wouldn’t lie just to mess with you.” Then he smirks, “Well, about this, anyways. How am I supposed to keep you with me forever if I make you hate me?”

Your eyes well up and throat clogs. “I—… I love you, too,” you choke out, yanking him down into a hug. He falls with a snort.

“Do you really mean it?” you ask again, trying to keep your voice from quivering. He slithers an arm underneath you so he can hold you back while he strokes your hair with the other.

“You used to just accept everything I say, why aren’t you now?” he laughs into your neck.

“I just…never thought this would actually happen.”

“Thought about it a lot, have you?” he asks, teasing, “Didn’t realize you were _that_ obsessed with me.” He says that even though he practically admitted to being the same way not too long ago. You can’t help but laugh, even as your tears start overflowing; _Lucio loves you back_.

 

* * *

 

You’ve been intimate with Lucio for a long time, but you’re pretty sure this is the first time you’ve ever done anything like this in a closet. You’re barely keeping yourself standing by leaning forward against a wall while Lucio bucks against your clothed behind, his right hand rubbing you so softly, though rapidly, through the trousers of your much too extravagant outfit. You’re sweating so much that you’re worried your mask will fall off, if it doesn’t fall from the jostling of your hand over your mouth.

Lucio leans in to whisper into your ear, not slowing his pace in the slightest, “Why won’t you say yes already?”

For a second, you’re so dazed with pleasure that you have no idea what he’s talking about until you finally remember; he’s been badgering you to become his Court Magician, stay in the palace with him so you can always be within his reach. As nice as it sounds, you couldn’t bear to part with your shop. You’d also feel like you would be abandoning Asra.

“I already told you—” you gasp and moan when he grips you hard then grinds down hard with the heel of his palm, “—I can’t just leave my shop…”

He growls and it sends goosebumps down your neck, “What if… What if we just moved it into the palace or something?” The suggestion is so ridiculous that you can’t help but snort and start laughing. He makes an offended noise, and shoves you closer against the wall, hissing, “Why are you laughing!?”

“We can’t just _move_ an _entire building_ into the palace, Lucio—”

“Why _not_? Don’t tell me what I can and can’t do!” Then he scrapes his teeth down your neck and starts rubbing you rougher, blanking your mind. You scrabble against the wall, unable to control your moaning.

Lucio rubs you with jerky, uneven motions while his clawed hand caresses your body, moving up your side, crossing over your chest, tracing the line of the red-jeweled gold choker around your neck. The tips crawl up your jaw, skate over your cheek, then slide past your parted lips, pinching your tongue with the smooth sides of his first two claws. No longer able to control your mouth, your saliva drools along his claws and down your chin unchecked, making you hot with embarrassment. You can’t help but jerk your hips into his hand as you cry out, though you’re unable to muffle the sounds, and they echo throughout the small room.

“Oh,” Lucio moans just under your ear, “you’re still so reactive, even after so long…” He ruts hard against you at the same time he squeezes your cock tight, and you nearly choke. “Is this how you’ll always be, or are you doing it just for me?” It must be a rhetorical question because his claws are still in your mouth, trapping your tongue.

You’re starting to get close now, so impossibly turned on it doesn’t feel real, even though Lucio has done this to you countless times. He’s biting up and down your neck again when suddenly, he releases your groin, and you let out a pathetic whine.

“Become my magician, love,” he murmurs sweetly, releasing your tongue and running his other hand up and down your thigh, “then I’ll let you come. Promise me…” You don’t really register the words, however; you’re too far gone, and the only thing you can think of is him and the release so near to you.

“Yes, _yes_ , whatever you want, just _please_ —” You nearly shout when he starts rubbing you again, and you feel like you black out for a moment when you finally do orgasm. The moment you come back to yourself, you hear him moan, whiny and stuttering, as he jerks hard against your backside. His claws dig a little too hard into your hip, leaving tiny holes in your costume.

The two of you pant heavily as you try to recover, and eventually Lucio starts kissing up and down your neck. After some time in silence, he murmurs against your neck, smug, “You agreed.” You make a small questioning hum. “You agreed to being my Court Magician. You _promised_.”

You squint at the dark wall in front of you, trying to remember when you did, and realize exactly when with a sputter. “Th-that doesn’t count, you cheated.”

He sounds absolute bratty when he says, much louder, “It does too count! I asked, you said yes, so now you have to do it!” He leans back a little so he can spin you around and look you in the eye. He’s angry and pouting with crossed arms. “What do you want me to do? Shower you in riches? Stop fucking you in inconvenient places? Say _please_?”

You giggle, “Saying please would be a nice start. But for now, I think you’ll just have to do with, ‘I’ll think about it.’” You lean in to kiss him, your masks sliding together and keeping your kiss mostly chaste. Then, taking his hands in yours, you start pulling him towards the door. “Now come on, we need to get cleaned up so we can get back to the party. It wouldn’t do for the Count to be missing on his birthday, right?”

Lucio growls, glaring at you. He can see right through your attempt at distraction, but you simply smile at him anyway. Eventually, he relents with a groan. “ _Fine_. Fine. Let’s get cleaned up and go back to the stupid party.” You turn the doorknob, but he grabs your wrist before you can push it open. “But you’d better make up for _lying_ to me when we get back to my room.”

“Of course, Your Excellency,” you snicker. “I had an entire performance planned just for the occasion.”

Then the two of you step out of the closet into the blinding lights of the palace, trying to sneak as quickly and quietly as you can to Lucio’s wing for a quick bath.

**Author's Note:**

> I think... I think that's it, lads. ✌️ Thanks to [Langston Hughes' "To Artina"](https://genius.com/Langston-hughes-to-artina-annotated) for all the titles that I have thoroughly exhausted.
> 
> Thanks to all the people who left nice comments like, "This is so in character," or, "The sex was great," or, "Nice," it really made me feel both proud and even more embarrassed (not in a bad way) about writing these, haha.
> 
> I'll probably write more with Lucio, just...probably not in the continuity of this series, heh.


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